Last Sunday I sang. At the 11am church service, with our alto, Tara Hochhauser, I sang “Wie selig sind doch die” from the cantata “Ein Feste Burg”, BWV 80, by J.S.Bach.
Rosemarie was in the hospital, trying not to fly into mania. She'd been looking forward to hearing me sing. Tara and I had given her a preview on Monday, when I brought a chair into the studio and Rosemarie sat and listened to us sing
Wie selig sind doch die, die Gott im Munde tragen
Doch sel'ger ist das Herz, das Ihn im Glauben trägt.
Es bleibet unbesiegt, und kann die Feinde schlagen,
Und wird zuletzt gekrönt, wenn es den Tod erlegt.
The whole occasion was a little celebration for me; I hadn't sung alone (or in a duet) publicly for over twenty years.
Everything went basically pretty well. The church didn't explode, nobody had a heart attack, no one developed any loud and sudden affliction with Tourette's Syndrome. I stayed awake throughout the performance, and didn't have any uncontrollable urge to pee.
Making music – especially by singing it – is for me primordial. It is stuff from the Garden of Eden. Making music is one of the only ways left for me to forget my ego, my time, the clock, my inadequacies. Music makes me whole again, a simple animal, a creature without thoughts or intentions.
10:08:11 PM 
|
